


The Lost City

by blacktopanga



Category: Atlantis: The Lost Empire (2001), Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1930s, Alternate Universe - Atlantis: The Lost Empire Fusion, Alternate Universe - Avatar & Benders Setting, Atlantis, Badass Katara (Avatar), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, F/M, Honey it's time to yearn again! Yes dear, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), I'm Bad At Tagging, Longing, Minor Katara/Lu Ten, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Slow Burn, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, Zutara
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:35:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29059104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacktopanga/pseuds/blacktopanga
Summary: Zuko leaves/is banished from the high court of the Fire Nation. He is outcasted along with his Uncle Iroh and his older cousin Lu Ten, who is a historian obsessed with finding the lost Water Tribe city of Atlantis. Zuko looks up to Lu Ten as if he were a brother, following in his footsteps in researching the lost city. But when Lu Ten dies, his life's work is thrust into Zuko's hands, who is the only person who can decipher the language of the ancient texts that Lu Ten gave his life for. At the request of the Fire Nation, Zuko embarks on a mission with Lu Ten's motley crew to uncover the truth about the lost city of Atlantis.Katara has been searching for something her entire life. After her home is decimated and her father abandoned her and her brother to fight in a meaningless war, Katara meets Lu Ten who takes her in and gives her peace. In efforts to repay him, she and Sokka joins his crew in his search for the lost Water Tribe city of Atlantis. Katara has heard stories of such a place but never believed it truly existed. But something about it seems awfully familiar, like... she's been there before.A/U in which Katara is the missing princess of Atlantis and Zuko is Milo Thatch, searching for Atlantis.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Mai/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	1. The Man with No Title & The Girl with No Home

**Author's Note:**

> hiya
> 
> this is the atlantis/atla AU that no one asked for!
> 
> some notes: sorry if this sucks but i re-watched atlantis and i've been watching avatar for YEARS and shipping zutara and i thought this story would fit so so well
> 
> i hope you enjoy it! or not! do whatever you want!

It had been three years since Zuko had seen or heard from anyone in the fire nation. Three years since he had walked out on everything he’d ever known and dedicated his life to studying the dark, ancient history of the nation he belonged to. Three years since he’d left the high court. No longer a Prince, no longer worthy of a title, Zuko built a life of his own through hard work and common sense. Something the members of his family knew nothing about. 

The only person Zuko remained in frequent contact with was his cousin Lu Ten and his Uncle Iroh, Lu Ten’s father. They wrote to each other and Zuko would travel to his tea-shop a couple times throughout the year, just to make sure they were well. 

But by no means was Zuko a good person. A damaged person, he could argue. A weak or timid person, was too nice to describe him. Zuko was not a good person, to himself, to his nation, to his family. He followed the mantra of Fire Nation for years, killing cultures and colonizing villages well before he’d reached the age of 19. It wasn’t until the executed death of the last Southern Water Tribe villages, that Zuko’s eyes were opened at the widespread destruction he’d been leading in the name of the Fire Nation, in the name of his father. He was grateful and fortunate to have his uncle and Lu Ten, who had left the Fire Nation, several years prior. And who consistently challenged him to think for himself and helped him create a life that was separate from the privilege and bliss he’d once known. A life worth living. 

It is just a shame that by the time Zuko’s eyes were open, Lu Ten’s had been closed and it was much too late for any sort of real redemption for him. The only thing Zuko could do was study. Study and learn. Lu Ten would tell him, “Read and read well. Only fools talk about what they do not know.” So Zuko read and read well, and he never talked, he never shared. In so many ways he was still a fool, still a child. And the longer he could hold onto that part of himself, the easier things were for him. But Zuko was not a good person, not in the slightest. 

And so, Zuko spent his days usually reading and studying and writing theories. Opening himself up to entire cultures and histories erased at the hands of his father and his uncle and at some point himself, and rediscovering the richness of humanity. His favorite, much like his cousin Lu Ten, was the lost city of Atlantis. It was among one of the most hidden histories of the Water Tribes. Because their civilizations were among one of the first to be depleted under the reign of Sozin and his father, there was now limited access to their knowledge and history. The only way to get accurate and true stories was to actually go to the Water Tribes and speak with the elders that survived. Zuko would never be accepted into Water Tribe society to talk with elders, as he was the spitting image of the very being that killed their colonies. Lu Ten, on the other hand, had never given up hope. The last Zuko had heard from his cousin was that he was sailing with a crew on the shore of the Water Tribes near Iceland, in search of a clue that would lead him to the city of Atlantis. 

It was a hunch, at best.

Lu Ten had based his entire life’s work on a hunch. A pretty good and solid hunch, but a hunch nonetheless. Most would call it a myth, but that’s because it sounds better. Others call it crazy and it’s believers kooks. And Zuko and Lu Ten had happened to be two of those kooks. And now only Zuko remained. 

Zuko honestly didn’t know if he believed in Atlantis as much as Lu Ten did. All Zuko knew was how much fun pouring over ancient texts and photos and old rocks had been with his cousin and how much he missed his cousin. His only solace was his Uncle, who’s tea shop was near his modest home, his garden, that sustained most of his eats so he did not have to interact with the outside world, and his love of reading ancient texts. Zuko lived, isolated and alone, and he much preferred it that way. 

“Hello, brother.” comes a shrill voice that sends a shiver down Zuko’s spine. A voice so icy that he is frozen, his gardening fork pushed halfway into the soil underneath his carrots. Zuko blocks out his shivers and stands and turns toward the voice, and is met with the identical golden eyes of his sister, Azula. 

“Azula.” He spits, gruffly. Azula’s lip quirks as she meets the hard gaze of her brother. 

“Been a while, hasn’t it?”

A while is a couple of months. Zuko hasn’t seen or heard from his sister in almost 3 years. Since he'd left the Fire Nation. 

He met her golden eyes and she gave him a slick smirk, as she stomped on his flowers and an almost ripe tomato to make her way to him. He didn’t know what he was more angry about: the fact that his sister had shown up announced to his home, or that she’d just crushed his gardenias. 

“Well, isn’t this nice! Mai, isn’t this nice? It’s so cute and… compact.” Azula squeaked, scanning the perimeter of his modest home. A dark, cloaked figure stepped from behind his sister, and threw off the hood hiding their face. It revealed the face of another person he hadn’t seen or heard from since his leave. A face of someone he’d one day hoped to wake up next to. He tried to pretend the lurching of his heart was not happening as he met Mai’s eyes with a cold glare. He clenched his fists and looked back to his sister. 

“What do you want?” There was always something they wanted. It was what the Fire Nation did. Azula laughed, the sound artificial and dark. She stepped forward crushing another gardenia under her heeled foot. Zuko felt his blood boil. 

“Oh, Zu-zu, getting right to business then? Well, alright, I hate small talk as well. There’s a mission for you. An... assignment if you will.” She began. Zuko rolled his eyes. As if he would do anything at the request of his sister, or worse, his father. Especially for a nation of which he had no claim to anymore. 

“Not interested.” He deadpanned, turning to stalk away from the duo. Azula cleared her throat, and fixed the sleeves of her long tunic. 

“Oh, but you will be,” She said in a menacing, sing-songy voice. Zuko did not stop his stride toward his house, but before he could even reach for the doorknob, Azula blurted out something to make him hesitate.

“It involves completing the life work of your dear Lu Ten.” 

Zuko stopped and stiffened instantly. He silently cursed himself for hesitating, for turning into putty at the mention of his cousin’s name. Slowly, he turned around to face his sister once more and waited for her to finish her request. Azula smiled sharply, a metallic glint in her eyes. It never got old to her, having people do exactly what she wanted. 

“That’s right, Zu-zu. It’s time to find Atlantis.” 

\--- 

Zuko doesn’t agree right away. At least he could have that on his conscience. He declined immediately and then he declined again until he found out his Uncle was going on the trip. He would be gutted if anything happened to his Uncle after losing his son so recently. But Zuko didn’t want to do this. Why would he want to board a ship for god knows how long with his crazed sister, his traitor ex-girlfriend, his loopy uncle and a band of other people he did not care to know? To search for a fictional city underneath the sea? 

The idea was ridiculous. It was ridiculous as he packed his bag. It was ridiculous as he caught a taxi to the docks. And it was even more ridiculous as he boarded the large, ugly Fire nation ship. Even more ridiculous as he spotted his Uncle, in a bright, floral decorated shirt. But it was for Lu Ten and if anyone deserved it, it was him. 

“Nephew! I’m so glad you accepted! This is exciting, is it not?” His Uncle greeted him, as soon as Zuko stepped onto the grand ship. Iroh rushed to embrace his nephew, delivering a crushing hug. Zuko coughed as his bones cracked under the squeeze of the former general and patted his back hesitantly. 

“It’s good to see you too, Uncle.” He mused, looking down at the stout man. Iroh put an arm around his nephew and led him farther onto the ship’s deck, where there was a full crew of sailors, putting away barrels of food and other supplies. Iroh looked ahead fondly at the men, pride swelling in his chest. 

“Isn’t this just wonderful?” He claims, “The journey we are about to embark on, my dear nephew. They will tell tales of this.” says the older gentlemen. It takes everything in Zuko not to sigh sadness into the air. _They will tell tales of this_ , He thinks to himself. 

_The kooks who searched for a fake city_. 

He keeps his lackluster thoughts to himself, as his uncle clings onto the last thing they have left of his cousin--this mission. There’s a cramping feeling in his chest and he follows his uncle through the maze of this ship, wordlessly. 

“Behind!” rings a sharp voice from behind him. Zuko turns and stumbles to the side, making way for a girl who couldn’t be any older than he was, clamoring along with a barrel 2x her size perched on her shoulder like it weighed nothing. She bustles past him and sits the barrel down near the pile of other barrels which are being hurled onto the higher level of the ship. The barrel lands with a thud and two male sailors attempt to pick up the barrel, which then requires the help of a third sailor to properly manage the barrel and heave it onto the higher stow. Zuko blinked in awe, as the girl continued to pick up and move barrels that teams of men could not manage alone. Zuko of course had no qualms about her strength as he knew women could be as strong if not stronger than men, but her round face put her at no more than 19 years old. Iroh watches his amusement pass over his nephew and lets out a bright laugh. 

“Ah, yes. That is young Toph, she is the youngest of the crew, but by no means is she the weakest.” Iroh says fondly. Zuko continues to watch the black-haired girl. 

“What’s her role?”

Iroh chuckled, unable to contain his own amusement. 

“She is the crew geologist.” 

“Geologist? She can’t be more than 19 year old!” Zuko shocks, looking at the rounded, soft features of the girl’s face. As soon as the words leave his mouth, the girl pauses and whips her head in his direction as if she’s heard him. He deems this impossible as he is halfway across the dock, but she drops the barrel she’s holding and it makes a loud thud causing several others around to jump in surprise. She marches across the ship, bare, dirt-streaked and toned arms swinging at her side and stops right in front of Zuko.

He can now see that she is short, and of solid build with strong arms. Her jet-black hair is pulled into two messy buns atop her head, with a bang of long strands covering her eyes, which were a bright and piercing pale green, almost white. As she stopped in front of him, she thrust forward her small hand. 

“Actually, I’m 18.” She answers confidently. Speechless, Zuko moves to shake her outstretched hand, which she squeezes seemingly innocently but he can hear his joints cracking and he pulls his hand from hers. He stretches his aching fingers and the girl smirks, proudly.

“Name’s Toph,” She says, then sniffs the air, and turns from the lanky man to the stout older man. “This your nephew you been talkin’ ‘bout, Old man?” She asks, Iroh laughs from his belly at her expression of amusement and nods. 

“It most certainly is. Master Toph, this is Crown Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation.” Iroh proclaims. Zuko feels an uneasy pit brew in his stomach at his old title. He hasn’t been called a Prince in years. It’s placement near his name seems off, like it doesn’t belong. He tosses a wary glance to his uncle and shakes his head, slowly. 

“Just Zuko is fine.” In a different time, where he was a perfect son or a perfect brother or a perfect Fire Nation citizen, he’d have welcomed the title. But he was none of things nor did he want to be. Toph cocks her head, as the vibrations from the floor clocks her with an almost unreadable expression from the flat-footed Fire Prince. Almost. She can sense the tenseness and intensity that builds up into him, it moves through him, almost cutting into his breath. It waits and looms underneath his surface, like a match waiting to be lit. She puts a hand on her hip and smirks, up in his direction.

“Nah. I think I’m gonna call you… Sparky.” She muses. Iroh snorts at the name and Zuko feels heat creep up his neck, reaching the tips of his ears. He sputters and shakes his head at the untimely nickname. “No, no, Zuko is just fi-” But Toph is already whirling away from him and calling out from over her shoulder toward the rest of the crew men. “Hey guys! Let Sparky help you with those barrels!” Her voice is a twinkling sound because of her age but it is hardened with command as the men immediately hop to her demands. 

Zuko glances at his uncle in disbelief and Iroh just shrugs his thick shoulders and holds his hands out, questioning. Zuko sighs heavily and shoves his glasses into his leather bag, and tosses it to the side and clamors over to the men with barrels. 

Toph finishes her own work, while trying to track the flat-footed man and his progress. 

Zuko was never one for hard labor, but he wasn’t one to complain either. He was taught from a young age that to complain was to be a burden and there was no more room for the burden he already was--to add complaining as well. He uses all of his strengths as he rolls a barrel labeled “pickles” toward a pile of other barrels, and it requires all of his strength and more as he struggles silently. As he pushes the barrel, he feels it become easier and easier to roll, and then it feels like he isn’t doing anything at all. When he opens his eyes, to his left there is a pale, lean shirtless man helping him. The man pushes the barrel with one hand and in the other is a half-eaten apple. He greets him with a large, goofy grin plastered onto his soft features. Zuko rises, nearly out of breath and wipes his hands on his tan pants, streaking them with dirt. He meets the man’s grey eyes and nods toward him with a huff, grateful. 

“Thank you for your help.” Zuko thanks. The man stands and his full extent is so much taller than Zuko that he has to crane his neck to fully view his face. His bare chest glimmers in the bright sunlight, and his face is darkened by the Non La hat perched atop of his head. Zuko can make out angular, sharp features and crinkles in the corners of his eyes, probably from lots of smiling. He seems to be a pretty sturdy person and Zuko wonders if that’s why he’s had so much to smile about. The man waves a hand and shrugs, as if it were nothing. 

“Don’t mention it, friend. I’m Aang. Nice to meet you!” He mentions, gleefully. His voice is soft but deep, resounding off of the echo of the water, Zuko noticies. He offers his hand and Zuko takes it with a frim shake. Aang takes another bite out of his apple and nods at him. 

“What’s your name?” 

Zuko shifts from foot to foot before answering, “Zuko.” in a quieter voice. Aang’s bright eyes widen at his name and he lets out a loud laugh, before clapping a hand onto his shoulder. 

“Wait, _you’re_ Zuko?” Aang asks, his apple-laced breath wafting toward Zuko’s nose. He looks up at the upstanding man with a crease in his brow. Was this such a surprise? 

“Yes?” He answers, unsure of the man’s next steps but sure it is not what he is expecting at all. Aang looks intently into Zuko’s face, studying his features, eyes scanning his face for an ounce of deceit. From Aang’s bright grin that appears after, Zuko confirms he finds none, and then Aang is opening his arms wide and engulfing Zuko in a tight bear hug in which Zuko can barely breathe.

Zuko has never been one for affection and this is his second hug of the day, and he isn’t sure how to feel about it. But when Aang pulls away and the warmth leaves his body, Zuko thinks it’s something he may just have to get used to it. 

“It’s so great to finally meet you!” Aang greets. He puts a hand on his own bare chest. 

“I had the pleasure of working with Lu-ten, your cousin. He talked about you all the time.” Aang disclosed. Zuko felt a pang in the center of his chest. Had his cousin really mentioned him? Was it truly an honor to meet him? Zuko thought as Aang threw an arm around Zuko’s broad shoulders and began to walk him to the other side of the packed ship, chuckling amusedly. 

“Come on! You’ve gotta meet the whole gang!” 

Zuko glances back at his unfinished barrel work and cannot find the intimidating Toph, so he follows Aang who seems to be the first happy person, besides his Uncle, in the world to see him.

\---

Katara leaned over the railing, watching the blue waves crash against the stern of the ugly, brown dense ship and sighed wistfully. Here she was, back on a ship she swore to Tui and La never to be on again, close to the water but not close enough. If Katara was being honest with herself, she hated sailing. It was a constant taunt to only look at the deep ruins of the sea below her. She wanted to reach out, to touch, to feel the water run over her hands. For as long as she could remember the water had always called to her. It called to her like it was waiting for her to finish a lyric to a song. A song that would make her feel whole and complete. And that’s how she felt when she was near it. Whole, complete. Like it was the missing part to her soul. 

Katara couldn’t remember much from her childhood, but sometimes when she dreamed, she dreamed of great big waves and bright lights, and it was daunting and terrifying but strangely familiar. It welcomed her like a place she’d been before. But it was just a dream, and Katara belonged nowhere, fully. She didn’t belong to the Southern Water Tribe, the only water-sensitive girl child in a village of hungry men. She didn’t belong in Ba Sing Se, where she and her brother slept in the streets and scavenged for food. And she didn’t belong on a ship above the sea, searching for the ruins of a salvaged city underneath the ocean. 

But she was here. She had boarded this ship, just as she boarded the last ship with the same mission: finding an answer to the riddle of her ancestry. An answer she thought to be hidden in the lost city of Atlantis. An answer people had died trying to find. An answer that only one person had promised to help her find, her friend, Lu Ten.

But that promise may as well have died with him. 

To say that Katara didn’t trust anyone was an understatement. It took her several years of knowing Lu Ten, seeing his kindness, and brandished unselfishness before Katara could find herself to give him a chance. Katara’s short, sad life had been full of people, of men, promising to help her, promising to come back for her, and she’d been left high and dry more times than she’d liked to admit. 

But once she trusted someone, well, then they had a friend for life. Katara remained certainly loyal to only two things: her strength and her family. Katara knew she could handle anything and Katara loved her family more than anything in the world. She remained loyal to her family, even in death. And that is why Katara is on a ship, above the water, sailing to find Atlantis. Because Lu Ten was her family. And she promised him, she’d help him find it. And even though he is dead, Katara does not break her promises. She is that loyal. 

Katara tore a longing gaze from the rippled waters below, scanned the ship for any sign of her chosen family. Aang's bright smile or Toph's smirk or even Suki's calmness was enough to get her through the day. Her sharp, blue eyes landed on a man with a slim build, and dark unkempt, shaggy hair. Her eyes perked at his skin that was the color of cream and the broad, boxy shoulders that reminded her of only one other person. He sat atop a stack of boxes, nestling something in his seemingly large hands, eyes casted downward roaming intently. 

She felt her breath leave her body as her eyes formed around the large leather book in his hands, knowing it to be the book that Lu Ten carried with him at all times.

Katara felt an awful pang in the center of her chest and her feet practically moved on their own as she charged towards the man. 

Even though Katara knew that Lu Ten was dead, because she’d seen his lifeless body, swept away by the ocean, and had wept for weeks, the glimmer of hope in her heart grew as she stalked across the ship, toward the man. She had almost reached him before he’d raised his head from the leather journal and she could make out more of his face. 

She felt her gasp, and her insides began to tremble at the uncanny resemblance. All the way down to the rounded glasses that rested at the tip of his nose, from far away he ticked all of the boxes of Lu Ten. But as she made her way closer, she could make out the slight differences. And by the time she was standing directly in front of him, with him looking up at her with puzzled eyes, she could see that he was not Lu Ten, not even in the slightest. And it made her upset for her to even think it to be him in the first place.

Lu Ten’s face was rounder, softer. His glasses had a permanent crack in the left lens towards the top. His nose was slightly crooked. And Lu Ten had hazel eyes with flecks of green in them. But this boy had an angular face with a perfect button nose. And his glasses were perfect. And the right side of his face was decorated with a large reddish burn mark, that made his right eye slightly squinted. 

Not ugly, but not at all, like Lu Ten.

And as she stared at the boy, she felt herself grow angry. How could she mistake this boy for Lu Ten? The only resemblance was the large leather journal of his that he held in his massive hands. Had her heart wanted him to be Lu Ten that badly? The boy’s puzzled look turned to a glare, quickly.

“What?” He demanded, in a scratchy, gruff voice that was nothing similar to Lu Ten’s hearty, soft tone. Katara grits her teeth down to dust and points to the journal with a trembling hand.

“Where did you get that?” She commands, jaw locked in anger, eyes wild with distrust. The boy slammed the book closed with one hand and rose silently from his makeshift seat. He was a head taller than her, and his mouth had transformed into a permanent scowl. 

“Why?” He asked, in a gravelly voice. Zuko had had enough of people questioning him and prodding at him, and everyone pretending like they weren’t about to embark on a dangerous mission at the request of the very people he hated. He had grown tired of the cheery sailors and the helpful men and the strong women that were once a part of a crew that his deceased cousin led. Maybe that was why he was so annoyed at the smaller brown girl with the bright blue eyes who was questioning him. What did she care about a book owned by a dead man for? Katara’s heart pounds inside her chest as if it's threatening to explode and make a mess of all of the invasive emotions taking root. Her tiny fists are now red hot balls of fury and she does not hide the fury, she does not spare him any. 

“Because it isn’t yours!” She yells, loud enough to stop the workflow traffic taking place around them. Curious heads whip over to look over at the two opposing forces. Zuko meets her venomous eyes with angry flushed cheeks and eyes with a question. _How dare she accuse him of… of stealing?_ _As if he wanted the book? As if he wanted to be here?_

Before Zuko can manage to respond with his own slighted anger, the brown boy from earlier, Sokka, has swiftly wedged himself in between the seething blue-eyed girl. Sokka grabs the shoulders of the girl with firm hands and gives her a good shake, as if trying to shake off her anger. He fails, and it remains hot and rolling off her in waves.

“Katara,” Sokka chokes out, scanning his sister’s intense gaze and pout. “This is-” Katara barely recognizes the force as her brother before cutting him off mid-sentence. She cuts her gaze to the taller man who shares her complexion and eye color and snaps at him. 

“I don’t care who the hell he is! That’s Lu Ten’s book! Why does he have Lu Ten’s book?” She brushes away Sokka’s firm grasp from her shaking shoulders as if the contact burns. Sokka shows her his palms and raises his hands in defense, like one would do to a wild animal who is ready to pounce. 

The confusion hit Zuko like a slap in the face. He quickly averts his eyes and peels off the reading glasses slipped down to the tip of his nose with sweat. He recognizes the girl’s anger to be valid and feels the guilt rise in his chest. A simple case of mistaken identity. Zuko cannot even begin to process how it feels to resemble someone who is dead and feels slightly for his sister who looks like their mother but is nothing like her. A sigh rakes through his body in exhaustion. He is tired of people mistaking him for someone else. A prince, a good person, a dead relative. It’s all beginning to make his head spin. He clarifies for the girl. It’s the least he could do. 

“Lu Ten is… was… my cousin.” He chokes on the words as they twist and escape his throat. He hasn’t said his name in a long time and it burns and tastes bitter in his mouth. And he hates this girl with the piercing blue eyes and the heart-shaped face for making him say it, but he knows it’s not anyone’s fault but his own. 

Her furrowed brow and eyes bear a question she can’t bother to ask as she glares up into his bright molten gold eyes. His eyes are a lit flame and they resemble hot lava once it’s been cooled. She catches a flash of something she can’t make out swimming behind his eyes. Sokka swallows audibly and bravely makes the attempt to rest a hand on his sister’s shoulder once more. 

“Katara, this is the Crown Prince Zuko.” Sokka revealed, his voice low enough for only Katara to pick up. 

Zuko physically cringed at the mention of his title once again. What would he have to do to show these people he was not a Prince? Was it not enough that he wore the mark of the banished? Should he show them his removal papers?

The roaring of the ocean surrounding them and her own heart pounding has made it impossible to hear anything else. She looks at him squarely, expression a cross between disgust and fear and something else she can’t place. The feeling creeps up on her and when it reaches the hollow space of her heart, she still can’t place it. 

She was sharing an audience with the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation. The cousin Lu Ten had loved so much. 

Which could only mean… Lu Ten was a part of the Fire Nation. 

What was left of her heart shattered into two pieces and fell into her gut at the realization. Katara had known Lu Ten came from wealth, and it bothered her but she knew that much about him. But she did not know that the wealth came from the Empire responsible for everything tragic in her life. 

Although she was angry at Lu Ten for keeping his heritage from her, she could not stomach a betrayal to him. Katara was loyal, even in death and even to a man who kept an unforgivable truth from her she discovered lamely.

Katara decided then and there that to her Lu Ten could not be a part of the horrible Empire that was the Fire Nation. Lu Ten had shown her kindness and grace, even when she didn’t deserve it. He had picked her up from the streets, broken and shattered and carefully pieced together a person again. So because she decided it, it was so and Katara locked it far enough into her brain that she wouldn’t cross it. 

She stared up into the face of the boy with eyes like lava and decided that he was her enemy. And because she decided it, it was so. He would be the representation of where her anger pooled, once aimed at a faceless building, nation, and color. She did not know this man, she didn’t know if he’d done wrong or right, if he was bad or good. But he’d been born to the Fire Nation and Lu Ten was dead because of the Fire Nation and for Katara that was enough. 

He would have thought he’d be used to it by now. The way people recoiled when they saw his face. He was ugly and deformed, a shameful excuse for a person. He could only imagine what she saw in his eyes, in his face for her expression to be so full of disdain. She didn’t even seem to be looking at him, she looked right through him. As if he wasn’t even there. Which he wished he wasn’t. He wished she was instead looking at the person who deserved a view of her glare, which he was not even important enough to hold. He broke the silence, sheepishly.

“Zuko,” He clarified, his mouth dry. He was a man without a title. Just a man.

Zuko stretched out a hand to Katara who remained frozen to her spot, unwavering and unmoving. But she glared at his face, scanning it for some kind of deception, for something to crack behind it and reveal a monster’s face. 

She let out a long, wistful sigh. She knew better than most how to deal with the High Court. 

“My apologies for the confusion, _Prince_ Zuko.” Her eyes glowered darkly, and the apology didn’t reach her eyes. Zuko knew the apology was meaningless and he didn’t care for it either way. His ears grew red with heat as his hand lingered in the air, forgotten and unattended. He leaves it there as an offer for whenever she is ready and corrects her again. 

“Just Zuko. I’m not a Prince… anymore.” 

Katara glances at his hand and then up to his face. He wonders if she could see the anxiousness in his eyes. 

“So you’re _Zuko_.” She smoothes, as if trying to find a rock in his name. He ignored the feeling that shot through him as his name rolled off of her tongue. 

She looked him up and down and then after a beat, she turned on her heel and stomped away ungracefully, disappearing to the lower deck, wordlessly. Leaving behind the faint scent of waterlilies, Zuko’s hand hung in the air like a question unanswered. The space where she was standing is cold and makes him feel like he was a part of a conversation that hadn’t happened at all.

Sokka watched his sister storm away with Zuko, and then happily clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Whew. Well... I think that went well!” He exclaimed. But Zuko got the feeling that all was not well with the blue-eyed girl. 

-

Zuko had decided to hide the book in the folds of his leather bag to avoid any other miscommunications. He placed his glasses into the pocket of his shirt and scanned the ship’s deck for any miscellaneous work he could perform until they set sail. He spotted Toph and Aang across the deck, shoulder to shoulder and whispering to one another, but before he could even make his way over to them, a shrill voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Brother.” came Azula’s grating voice. His shoulders noticeably slumped and he sighed as he turned to face her. The entire crew had stopped and now all the men and women she passed were bowing toward her. She dismissed them all with a wave of her hand and made her way to stand in front of Zuko. 

“I thought you’d never arrive.” She directed, with her hands on her hips. Zuko rubbed the bridge of his nose. It seemed as if his worst nightmare had come true. 

“Azula.” He bit. Azula gave a careless wave and roll of her eyes. 

“Oh, please, I’m not joining you if that’s what you’re thinking. I have much more important duties to take care of. I’m here for...moral support you could say.” Azula sang, as she brushed past him. She gracefully hopped to stand atop a stack of large boxes and every eye followed her as she began to address the crew. Zuko folded his arms across his chest as he watched his sister speak with disdain. 

“Crewmen and women. The Fire Nation thanks you all for your sacrifice of time to complete my dear cousin Lu Ten’s life work. Finding Atlantis. I hope that together we can finally put an end to the search for the lost city and prove that Lu Ten was wrong-- there is obviously no nation greater than the Fire Nation!” Azula grated to the crowd. Zuko gritted his teeth and clenched his fist. He immediately moved toward Azula but was held back by the soft hand of his uncle, whose face was stone but eyes were obviously swimming. 

“You will be joined with my brother, Crown Prince Zuko as the replacement of Lu Ten. And my own royal guards, Mai and Tai Lee, as his seconds. I will be your Commander, watching the progress of the mission from afar. Hopefully, you all will succeed where Lu Ten could not. Bon Voyage!” She taunted, her eyes finally landing on Zuko, who was practically seething in anger. Azula hopped from the boxes to stand in front of Zuko, who was shaking in anger. 

“Have you no respect?” He spit, when he was finally near her. Azula threw her head back as she cackled in his face. When she met his eyes, her glare was cold and unnerving behind matching golden eyes. 

“Respect is earned, brother.” Azula closed the space between them to whisper into his ear. 

“So why don’t you use this mission to earn enough for both you  _ and _ Lu Ten?” She slapped back, brushing past him toward exit of the ship. 

Zuko’s eyes followed the spitfire girl as she sauntered off the ship. Men stopped and bowed to her as she passed, and the sight created a bitter taste in his mouth and a queasy feeling arose in his stomach. The sickness worsened as he caught the glares of Mai and Tai Lee as they boarded onto the ship. He greeted them with his own cold, awful glare before stomping to the lower decks toward his room. Before he could reach the stairs, Aang stepped in his direction stopping his long, angry stride. Aang's face was soft but concerned and stern. 

“Hey. You are nothing like her.” He soothed, grey eyes twinkling with concern. At that moment Zuko wished that were true. He wished that he was nothing like his sister, or like his father, or like any part of his family. But the sad truth was that he was. That a part of their wickedness was inside of him and there was nothing he could do to change that and it ate away at him everyday. So he met Aang’s grey eyes with a sadness behind his own. 

“Thanks Aang,” He offered. He glanced over his shoulder to catch Mai still staring at him. He turned away in shame. 

“But you don’t know me.” 

-


	2. A Boy of Fire / A Girl Drowning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko reflects on his feelings and gets a visit from his past. Katara tries to nip bad blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my bad if the chapters don't make sense. I wrote this as one long story lol

The following night, while the crew gathered around the fires to keep them warm and ate at the meals, Zuko sat away from the men and women who loved Lu Ten as their captain. His own love could never match up to these men and women who would bet and risk their lives on the theory of a brave man. How unimportant was he, to only have received this job because of nepotism? He wasn’t anywhere nearly as talented as the men and women aboard. His only talent was reading and who knew that would come in handy on a ship? Either way, he allowed them to be free of him and he ate alone in the captain’s office, with only the moon and smoke from the fires to keep him company. He heard a familiar grunt from behind him as he overlooked the waves and sighed. Iroh had caught sight of his nephew’s slumped shoulders, a mile away. 

“Nephew. Why are you sitting here alone, away from the crew?” His Uncle asked him, gruffly. Zuko couldn’t bear to bring down the old man’s mood with sad talks of his son and how unimportant Zuko felt so he simply said nothing and continued his gazing toward the moon. Iroh did not take the hint as he plopped beside his nephew and began looking in the same direction as him. The moon shone brightly over them, beckoning the way for their ship to travel. 

“The moon is a beauty, isn’t she?” He said, nudging at his nephew. When Zuko still refused to talk, Iroh sighed wistfully. “You know, it is okay to be sad, nephew.” He began. Zuko sighed and turned toward his uncle, slightly irritated. 

“I’m not sad, I’m...I just...I-” Zuko stammered, trying to find the right words for the emotions swimming underneath his calm exterior. Iroh furrowed his wrinkled brow. 

“Confused?”

“No, I’m-”

“Unhappy?” 

“I’m angry!” Zuko croaked. He ran a hand through his hair and scrunched it at the roots, nearly yanking it out of his head. He turned to his uncle, eyes swimming, and looked deep into his own brown eyes. “I should’ve… I should’ve been there with him. I should’ve been here! Why didn’t he ask me to come, Uncle? I would have come and maybe I could’ve… I could’ve helped in some kind of way-” Zuko says, helplessly. His defeated tone eats away at Iroh’s heart.

“Oh, Nephew.” said Iroh, resting a hand on his nephew’s trembling shoulder. “Sometimes in life, things happen for a reason. Whether we understand it or not. Whether we want it to or not.” voiced the old man with wisdom. Zuko has never understood his uncle’s strange sayings and words of wisdom, but he remembers this one vividly. It was what he had told him, the day his mother disappeared. A chord struck in Zuko’s chest, just as it had when they had an obligatory funeral for her. Iroh continued on, looking off into the moon as it glimmered in the night sky.

“Lu Ten knew that you would follow him into hell. But Lu Ten also knew that you were not ready at the time. He knew that if anything were to happen to him that someone would have to continue the journey and that someone would be you, Zuko.” 

Zuko shook his head. “But what if I’m not ready now!” He exclaimed, pushing his plate of food further away from him. Iroh turned around and grabbed Zuko’s shoulders and met his eyes, intensely. 

“You are, nephew. You are. You  _ have  _ to be.” Iroh commanded, with a squeeze on his shoulder. Zuko felt the back of his eyes burn as his Uncle looked at him fiercely. Zuko couldn’t bear the expression for too long so he turned back to the pale glimmer of the moon. He rested his chin on his knees, pulled to his chest and sighed. 

“I miss him.” Zuko muttered so low he thought his uncle would not hear. “I wish he were here.” 

A moment passed before Iroh released a long, heavy sigh joining in Zuko’s gaze toward the night sky. 

“Me too, Zuko.” He sighed, patting his nephew’s back, sadly.

“Me too.” 

\---

Katara was not impressed. Lu Ten had promised that when she’d meet his cousin, Zuko, that she would be impressed. And Katara was not impressed. Firstly, he was rude. Second, he was more awkward than a baby turtleduck. And thirdly, she knew that no matter how well-read or intelligent he was that he would still be the Prince of the Fire Nation. 

And Katara hated the Fire Nation. 

It may have sounded harsh, but Katara had a harsh upbringing. Her family and people decimated in a calculated attack led by the Fire Nation. Everything she’d ever known was gone in a matter of minutes. Brainwashed and forced to attend a school that celebrated the Fire Nation as an upstanding kingdom, while knowing that it was only able to stand on the bones and backs of Natives and other indigenous tribes. Everything about her life that had gone wrong was due to the Fire Nation. Until she’d met Lu Ten. He’d picked her and Sokka up from off the street. Given them a home, and a bed, because he knew just how much the Fire Nation was a horrible place for people who looked like her and Sokka. 

She would have never guessed that he was a part of that nation. 

She knew by the time she was 16 that she was in love with Lu Ten. And then when she turned 18 she knew she simply loved him. 

He promised to help restore honor and respect back to her people, or at the very least give her something to do with her life. So, Katara practiced what she was good at. Water. By the time she was 17 years old, Katara was the best navigator on their side of Ba Sing Se. She could chart navigations in a rainstorm, could spot a storm from a mile away, she was good at what she did. And encouraged by Lu Ten. Lu Ten was the father that was taken away from Katara, he was the mother that she never knew, and she loved him dearly. Even if everyone thought he was a crazy old man, spouting stories about an ancient civilization under the sea, she would follow him anywhere. 

And it’s because of that loyalty and love that she’d joined this crew without him in his honor. If she could do anything, if she could bring back any piece of proof that the city of Atlantis exists and all of Lu Ten’s work wasn’t in vain, she knew she could live the rest of her life content. She could give him what he had given her and her brother all those years ago; peace. 

So, maybe that is why Katara was so unimpressed by his cousin, Zuko. Sure, he may have looked like Lu Ten, he may have even been as smart as Lu Ten, but until Katara could know his heart, in her eyes, he was nothing like Lu Ten. 

“Hey, Katara?” Aang’s voice disrupted her from own thoughts. She turned his direction and greeted him with a small smile. 

“Hm?” She cooed. Aang pointed at his bowl of orange liquid, almost completely empty. “The soup tonight was really good. Thank you for creating a meatless version.” He thanked her, with a sheepish grin. Katara smiled a warm smile and covered her hand with his and squeezed. Aang felt a flutter in his heart at her touch. 

“No problem, Aang. I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Katara moved in closer to Aang’s face to whisper to him, “None of the soups have meat in them tonight.” Aang and Katara giggled together and across the fire there was a sputtering sound. 

“Wait, so this has _ no _ meat? This is  _ just _ vegetable mush? Bleh!” Sokka exclaimed, scraping the soup off of his tongue back into his bowl. Katara rolled her eyes and put a hand on her hip. 

“Oh, Sokka, would it kill you to eat one vegetable?” She accused. Sokka wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. 

“Uh, it might!” 

Aang shook his head. “If you knew what they really did to the animals, you’d never want to eat meat again.” Aang mused. Sokka snorted. 

“Um, I already know what they do to the animals. They make them taste good.” Sokka proclaims, triumphantly. Beside him, Suki rolls her eyes playfully and nudges Toph, who is staring off into space once again. 

“You okay, Toph?” Suki asks. Toph grunts. Toph has already taken off her shoes and been feeling around but she cannot hear or feel for the life in her, where the new Captain is. 

“Hey, where’s the new guy?” She asks, sniffing around to see if she can smell him anywhere. Suki snickered. 

“You mean our new Captain? He’s in the captain deck with Iroh. He seemed to be pretty moody after his sister left.” said Suki, recounting the tense situation earlier. The encounter had left Suki feeling empty and hollow. The royals really knew how to do it in for her, always knew just what to say to make everyone feel like little ants they’re stomping on. 

Toph nodded, yet still felt around on the cool wooden floor of the ship for his calculated steps. Toph found Zuko to be amusing to say the least. He was moody and broody, an obvious difference from the always cheery and sunny Lu Ten and Iroh. She wondered how he would suffice as the Captain of the ship enough to wonder aloud to the small group of friends. 

“What kind of Captain do you think he’ll be?” Toph wondered, curious to what the group thought of him. 

Sokka snorted. “Well, he’s not exactly Mr. Sunshine, that’s for sure.” Suki nudged Sokka with her foot in agreement. “Yeah, definitely walks around with some kind of attitude problem. Do you think he’s gonna be like his sister? You know those royals. Always actin’ like there’s something up their butts.” Suki voiced. 

“No, I don’t think he likes his sister very much.” Toph said. “You should’ve heard his heartbeat when she was doing her little...speech. It was soaring.” She continued. 

Aang shrugged his slim shoulders. “It’s hard to tell what kind of Captain he’ll be. But he’s always reading the book, just like Lu Ten. So, it’s safe to say he knows what he’s doing.” Aang chimed in. Suki leaned forward toward the fire. 

“Yeah, and he kind of looks like Lu Ten, right? They’ve got the same hair, nose, eyes, they’ve even got the same glasses-” Suki is cut off by Katara abruptly standing up, fists balled at her sides. 

“He is not Lu Ten!” She yells into the fire. The group hushes instantly. Suki opens her mouth to apologize but Katara shakes her head. She realizes that she is standing, and shaking slightly and so Katara slowly sinks back to her seat and begins to twirl the end of her hair to calm herself down.

“He’s nothing like him.” She croaked, her voice barely above a whisper. It has been months and the sadness still hits her like a wave sometimes. 

Sokka can feel his sister’s sadness radiating off of her, and so he moves to pat her shoulder but she immediately pulls away from him. She was a tricky one to comfort. But the best comfort one could give Katara is her space. Sokka nods and peers down into his tin cup of dark liquid. He takes a small sip before standing and addressing the group.

“Lu Ten could never be replaced or replicated. And he was never afraid of death. He used to tell me: ‘To live in hearts we leave behind, is to never die.’ So, to Lu Ten, who lives forever in our hearts with all of those whom we’ve lost.” Sokka raised his cup to the moon, followed by Suki, then Aang and Toph, and finally a quiet, hesitant Katara. And together the band of misfits joined in unison to pay respects to their dear friend and Captain. 

“To Lu Ten.” 

Katara looked around at the group around her and her heart warmed. Though they were missing a family member, they would always be a family, brought together by the man who loved the sea. Katara was grateful for them and grateful to have known such a great man. She glanced up at the Captain’s deck room, and although she knew for certain it was Zuko, his silhouette reminded her of Lu Ten. And that was enough for her to give him a chance. 

For Lu Ten. 

\--

Zuko looked down as the crowd below him had dispersed. He wondered what it felt like to be a part of a team of people who were caring and loving. He’d always had his uncle and cousin to give him love and support. But what did that feel like from people who were not his family? People who were not obligated to look past his mistakes and still find it in their hearts to love him? The thought caused Zuko to shiver slightly, and he turned to watch the raging sea in front of him as the ship sailed on. 

“Somehow I never pictured you to be the Captain of… well anything.” came a sharp, monotone voice from behind him. He didn’t have to turn around to know the voice belonged to his ex-girlfriend, Mai. Zuko sighed. As if his life could not get any more complicated. He chose in this instance to not respond to her, knowing it would make her angry and keep him sane. 

“Still nothing to say after all this time?” She cooed, the click of her heeled boats grated his ears and he knew she was walking toward him. He shoved his hand in his pocket so she could not see his balled fist.

“There’s nothing I want to say to you.” He called over his shoulder, attempting to mock her with her own emotionless tone. The click of her boots stopped. 

“Well, what if I want to speak to you?” She retorted, calmly. Zuko gritted his teeth. He bent down to pick up Lu Ten’s journal and his leather bag, and turned swiftly to march out of the room. He stopped in front of her. 

“You had 3 years to say something to me. You said nothing. So you get nothing in return.” He bit, in a rushed, hard tone. Mai tried not to roll her eyes at his scratchy, whiny voice. 

“Don’t be a child, Zuko. You left. What was I supposed to do? Long-distance?” She taunted. Zuko finally lifted his face to meet her eyes. They were cold, dark with absolutely no sign of life. He couldn’t bear remembering that he’d once loved those eyes. 

“You were supposed to come with me, Mai.” He said in a voice that was too close to pleading. He knows he must have sounded weak, but he didn't care. Mai turned to him sharply, her eyes daggers. 

“No. You weren’t supposed to leave.” She replied. Zuko blew out a breathless laugh. She was unbelievable. Back then and now. Zuko adjusted the leather bag on his shoulder and attempted to brush past her, but she stopped him with a small, dainty hand in the middle of his chest. He pulled back and met her gaze once again. 

“But now,” She cooed. “We’re here. Together again.” She proclaimed. Zuko knew that he was a weak man. He may have even been a coward. But he knew, that no matter how familiar Mai looked to the person whom he’d once loved, or how much she reminded him of his old life of bliss and privilege, that it was not a path he ever wanted to walk down again. Zuko leaned in close, the smell of expensive cherry blossoms and oak and metal filled his nostrils. 

“No. We are not.”

And with that, he stalked toward his room in the lower deck, grateful to get the sickly sweet smell of his past from his clouded mind. 

\--

Katara had opened her door, just in time to see Zuko stumbling into his own room. She took a deep breath and then wrapped a hand around the necklace that draped around her neck. Whenever Katara needed to be a little strong or needed courage, she always managed to touch her necklace. She felt the necklace gave her little bursts of power. Her father mentioned that it belonged to her mother, and it was passed down from generations to sit at the neck of Katara. 

She stumbled out of her own room and made her way to the open door. 

\---

“You said, was.” came that orotund voice once again. For a moment, Zuko thought he was hearing things. But when he craned his neck, he found the brown-skinned woman with the bright blue eyes leaning against his door frame, with her arms folded across her chest. Zuko immediately shot up from his bed and turned to face her from across the room. He barely had time to process her words before she was finishing her sentence. 

“Earlier you said Lu Ten  _ was _ your cousin.” Katara said, a stern look in her eyes. Her tone was calculating and firm. Zuko swallowed thickly at the mention of his cousin’s name for the third or fourth time today. It was exhausting being sad. He nodded at her. 

“Yes?” He acknowledged. Katara shook her head and stepped into his room. 

“Just because he’s dead does not mean he’s not your cousin anymore. No one ever really dies.” She said, simply. Zuko blinked and furrowed his brow. Her statement was so minimal, so small, and yet it filled him. He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again, when no words could come to his head. 

“I… I never thought of it that way.” He managed to say, while hoping he didn’t look like a complete idiot. Katara shrugged. 

“To live in the hearts we leave behind,” She began, but was promptly cut off by Zuko.

“Is to never die.” He finished with a slight nod. His cousin was always full of sayings. The ones that stuck were usually the most important. 

Katara took note of the solemness of his voice. It reminded her of... He pointed at her breaking, her from her illusion. 

“You...uh, worked with him during the first mission? The mission to get this journal?” Zuko asked, gesturing toward the opened journal on his desk. Katara tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and nodded. 

“I did. And the one before that to get the missing page to find the journal. What about it?” She replied. Zuko swallowed and nodded. 

“Well. Can you tell me... where did you find it?” Zuko asked. Katara furrowed her brow and stepped closer. She would have figured with how close Lu Ten and Zuko seemed, that he would have been updated on the progress of the mission. 

“He never told you?” Katara asked, a little confused. 

Zuko sighed, heavily. “He… He never got the chance to.” He murmured sadly. Zuko ran his fingers across the text of the opened book, and sat down at his desk to avoid shifting his feet, a habit of his awkward mannerisms. There was a beat of silence that Zuko could not bear. He cleared his throat and spoke, something he hadn’t found himself wanted to do for a long time. 

Talk. Share.

“Years ago, when we were translating the ancient texts of the one page corner we had, we found that there could have been a huge error in one letter. Language is tricky like that, especially ancient language. One slightly curved line, or one missing dot, could mean an entirely different letter. Meaning, a new phrase.” He explained. As he explained, he pointed to the page that was opened, with character based letters. Katara hesitantly moved closer to see his example, noting that she was now closer than they had been earlier. She could practically study his features, and although she preferred her space, she felt at ease about it. The smell of fresh waterlilies wafted under his nose and filled his nostrils, replacing the sickly sweet smell of Mai’s perfume with... freshness. He cleared his throat again and finished his thought. 

“It’s always been suspected that the book and Atlantis would be around the coast of Ireland, because that’s what we had translated and the others who had read this corner page. But if the error was correct, this character here would have a curved top, making the ‘r’ into a ‘c’ and it would read as  _ Iceland _ . Not Ireland. Obviously, since we only had one page with only two sentences, we could never get an answer without the rest of the pages. We argued for years. Never resolved it... Until now.” Zuko recounted, gesturing toward the book. Katara’s heart warmed at the thought of Lu Ten and his younger cousin pouring over texts and arguing about the placement of a false book and fictional kingdom under the sea. Those fond moments, she imagined a younger Lu Ten with a younger Zuko, rounded glasses on the tips of their noses as they studied ancient letters that existed hundreds of years in their past. She nodded. 

“So, what side were you on?” She asked, invested in the story. Zuko chuckled breathlessly. 

“I... found the correction.” He answered, confidently. Katara's eyes lit up and she nodded, biting her bottom lip to keep from smiling. 

“Hm. Isn’t that something?” She edged, bright eyes twinkling. Zuko stared at her, waiting for her to answer his original question. He ran a hand through his hair and rested his chin in on his propped arm.

“So? Where did you find the book?” He implored. 

Katara settled herself on the edge of his desk. “Well. We sailed and dived around the coast of Ireland for almost 40 days before finding the book,” she said, as Zuko’s shoulder dropped slightly. Katara could barely hold her stern gaze as she finished her statement. 

“We found it right there... off the coast of Iceland after only one day of searching.” She finished. Zuko's head shot up and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head. 

“Agni... I was right!” He murmured, looking at the leather journal on his desk in awe. Katara glanced at the ancient writings on the page before looking at his face again. She remembered that day, and the joy that had been on Lu Ten’s face as she presented him with the book he’d bet his life on. She sighed, happily. 

“That’s exactly what he said when we found it. He said it a good four or five times. ‘He was right,’ Of course none of us knew what he meant… until now.” She whispered to him with a kind, sad voice. Their eyes met once again, and Katara could see something behind his eyes, something that was heavy and sad. Katara noted then and there, that it was quite a shame that his eyes always seemed a little sad because they were beautiful. Two bright, golden orbs, like two suns. Katara tore her gaze away and promptly began to take her leave but not before Zuko stood once again and stopped her in her tracks. 

“Thank you.” He said, with a slight nod of his head. Katara smirked at him and then whirled around toward the exit. 

“Get some sleep, _ Prince _ .” She offered, as she sauntered out of his room, leaving behind the faint scent of waterlilies. The scent wafted into Zuko’s nose and created a permanent presence in his mind. 

\---

Katara returned to her room, and fell onto the flatbed of her, and stared at the ceiling. The constant rowing made some sick, but for her it was a reminder that she was near the ocean, and that it calmed her. She slipped from her day clothes, and into a sheer nightgown that was tattered and worn at the bottom. She snuggled underneath her blankets and then searched under the cool side of her pillow. She pulled an old graying photo of a man and woman that had been taped in the center and another photo of a large crew with Lu Ten and herself in the middle. She found herself lingering on the wide grin of Lu Ten and her own crinkly eyed smile. As she held the photos close to her heart, a tear escaped the corner of her eye. She wondered if she would lose any more family. She wondered if she could bear it. Katara thought about these hard questions, and the rocking of the ship against the calm waves lulled her into a deep sleep where she dreamed about a boy of fire and a girl drowning. 


End file.
